You can lie to most people.
You can fib about your wage, how much you weigh and even how many orgasms you had the night before. You can even tell nice lies, like when you tell your best friend her kitchen looks fine, even though it looks like Cookie Monster threw up in it.
You can lie to your Mother and tell her that everything is okay, when its totally falling apart. And for me, I lie to myself.
But there is one person you cannot lie to.
You know who?
Your dental hygienist.
Listen, my dental hygienist is a very nice person, maybe too nice. She should probably give me more hell for treating my gums the way I do. But, one this is for sure, I never lie to her.
She can totally tell by the raunchy smell, the bleeding gums and the fact that her little tools are getting stuck between my teeth that I am not flossing regularly.
And, I feel like an idiot.
You see, I know that I don’t floss enough and she knows that I probably don’t floss at all. She nicely lectures me and I say that I am going to change. And still we do this little song and dance every six months.
I have nothing against flossing. In fact for the first three weeks after my appointment, I am a woman obsessed.
“Ooohh, look at that!” I say as I show my husband, “I think that’s a piece of radish from lunch.”
In fact my teeth are the best kept thing about me. My bikini line is out of control, my roots are showing grey and my toe nails have not been painted in four months.
And because I love to fill “dead air” I was telling all this to my lovely dental hygienist. We were having a good laugh, because improving the health of your teeth is really something most people can do. Really, how hard is it to floss your teeth?
It’s a lot easier than losing 30 lbs. Who has the time to get on the treadmill?
My “laundry chair” is forever full. I just cannot get it folded. And if I do get it folded, I just cannot put it away.
But flossing? Hells to the yeah, that is one thing I think I can do and do well. So watch the ‘eff out. Mommy’s going to kick gingivitis in the ass.